


Operator, Please Put Me Through

by jessequicksters



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Trailer, Endgame, I Love You, Love Confessions, M/M, Outer Space, Voicemail, the world of sad missed calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 07:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters/pseuds/jessequicksters
Summary: Tony leaves a voicemail to Steve and says I love you. It's not as easy to stay on the line when you're galaxies apart.





	Operator, Please Put Me Through

The minute Tony gets a flash of signal on his helmet; he sucks in a sharp breath of air so quickly he thinks he might burst a lung. He thinks of calling Pepper, but then it dawns on him that there’s nothing he can say to her that can make any of this better, and his heart sinks like a stone in the deep pool of space.

There is nothing he can say or do to anyone that would make any of this better. So he chooses himself, chooses to tend to his heart and address the burden it’s been carrying around with him all this time.

Maybe it’s selfish of him, to want to make himself feel better at the end of the world, but if he gets one last thing, this would be it.

So he calls Steve and to his disappointment, it goes straight to voicemail.

“This is what I deserve,” Tony huffs, and presses his dry hands against his tired face, eyes wet with tears but at the same time burning with a kind of dryness, must be something in the sterile air.

_Your recording starts now._

“Steve,” he exhales, feeling himself smile, as if he’s greeting him in person. The helmet doesn’t smile back, only flashes with a red light that seems to signify that this is a bad idea.

“I, uh. I have a lot that I want to say to you. Been wanting to say it for a while I guess, but uh, things don’t usually pan out the way you want them to. I don’t know, every time I tried to say something… even before Sokovia,” he waves off the memory with a hand, “it’s always felt like there was a wall between us. Maybe I put it there, maybe I built it myself, or you helped hold it up for me because it was easier. More comfortable between the two of us.”

“I miss you. I miss… your stupid orders, telling me how I should fly and how hard I should hit. I know I used to get riled up when you did that, but I wish you were here to do that now. I know I act like I know better—well, some cases I actually do, but that’s beside the point. What I mean is, I mostly miss you telling me—telling all of us, that everything was going to be okay. That our plan was going to work. That we were going to make it to the end of the line.”

“No one’s here to tell me that now. I’ve made friends with a space chick, but she’s not as comforting.”

Tony takes a breath, drumming his fingers on the cool floor below him. He doesn’t know how far he should take this conversation, but it’s dark and he’s getting colder and weaker by the second, he figures he should finish what he started.

“You know how… when we lived in the tower, I’d find you awake in the middle of the night watching movies in the living room? I remember the first week it was The Shawshank Redemption and the second it was some nonsensical rom-com that Nat had recommended to you as a joke? Yeah, you didn’t realize at the time, but. Do you remember what you said? You can’t answer that right now, so I will. You said: _these people wouldn’t know what love is even if it stared them right in the face. It shouldn’t take the end of the world for people to say these things to each other_.”

“I was, kind of gone at the time—4 AM caffeine high and a problem I couldn’t fix down at the lab, so safe to say that my brain was performing below peak capacity. Anyways, when you said that I remember looking right at you. You didn’t notice, of course, but you looked so content, in a black t-shirt and a blanket we had draped over our laps. I think that was the first time I saw you as… a person. Not to be a dick about it, but Captain America is a tough skin to shed. I know.”

“I wonder if you ever had that moment with me—with Iron Man. It’s that damn wall again, is it? See, from that day on, I kept seeing more and more of you. But every time I tried to make you see me… it was hard, Steve. I don’t know what I kept doing wrong, you just made me feel like there was something in me—something you could never get past, no matter what I did. No matter how hard I tried.” 

“Maybe I’m getting my memories tangled up, maybe, that whole thing with Bucky tainted what I’m remembering of our time before. It’s hard, though, trying to see where the line was drawn. You told me you knew about my parents, but I never knew when you found out. It’s hard for me to revisit the past and… not think about that. Even when we had good days.”

“Even when you gave me compliments. Told me I had great music taste, that I looked good in a suit, that I was the smartest man you’ve ever known.”

_I love your mind, Tony. I love the way it works._

He hears rustling in the back of the ship. Nebula’s working on something and he should probably help. Not that he has much hope left, but if one of them can make it out of this alive, then that’s better than nothing.

“Looks like I need to get back to getting out of here. I’m trying, Steve—I’m going to come home, and we’re going to talk, alright? Like we’ve never done before. I won’t hold anything back, I promise. You deserve that, too. Before I go again, you should know that there’s something I should say.”

Tony can feel himself sweating bullets and feeling faint, as the clashing sounds of metal behind him get louder and louder.

“I love you, Steve,” Tony says, louder than anticipated.

“I can’t… explain myself well enough at this point to say more, it’s hard without knowing if I’ll ever see you again, but this is all I have left. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted to hear from me, or if maybe there’s more you need me to say…” 

“That’s it—everything I’ve been keeping inside of me for so long. It’s yours now, do what you like with it. No further instructions. I love you.”

The helmet stops recording and there’s a moment of relief shortly after, but then that peace is met with a flurry of erratic sounds.

_Message failed to send. Connection lost._


End file.
